Sounds of the Heart
by BetherdyBabe
Summary: First chapter a poetic drabble of kinds. Second chapter a look into Rodney's past and its connection to the present. Both established McKeller.
1. Sounds of the Heart

**I've found that listening to a soothingly slow song while reading this is quite nice, gives it a better effect if you will. My recommendation is **_**Love Letter**_** by **_**Mark McKenzie**_** if you would like to give it a try, though any song works.**

**Warning that exaggeration is used… I couldn't help it.**

**Thank you, DaniWilder, for beta-ing. Sorry for the stubbornness.**

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Effortless, smooth and effortless. It resounded within her, building up in the shiver running down her spine. It drifted through the air as distinctly as smells through the wind. You could sense the beauty of it with a single tender note. And that note was made noticeably effortlessly. A softly pressed bar of white made to create one sole inspiring tone. One after another, the musical string of resonances vibrated through her head as she meditatively gazed at the gentle fingers caressing the notes out of their wooden creator. They were meant to be free, meant to be heard, after all.

She didn't know why she couldn't see it earlier, but this man, this genius she was sharing her life with, had a gentler side that even she had yet to witness. Anytime the fingers moving so soft and sweet in front of her eyes made themselves out to be as calm and languid as they were now, her eyes couldn't stand to be open. They had only shown her gentleness like this when they were holding her body close and exploring its every inch of skin. She couldn't count the number of times she didn't have enough resolve to open her torpid eyes again to see how delicately they traced their path along her trembling skin.

It was happening again. She was tempted to shut out the visible world and listen to the beauty made, it seemed, for her ears only as her eyes wouldn't open again if she gave in. But it wasn't easy. One could not simply watch this man tenderly play with the sounds as they built up around him and made the reverberating hum he wanted.

She wanted to speak, wanted to tell him everything he was making her feel. It was all too surreal. Words couldn't describe it but she couldn't interrupt the thick yet light melody hanging in the air all around her. It was mentally suffocating. No other thoughts had room in her head and since they couldn't be expressed through her voice, they were left to be remembered another day. That's probably why she was speechless when his calmly flexing fingers came to a slow and drawn out stop of movement altogether; it was surprising. The sounds were dying off slowly and left by pushing an unbearable, distressing silence down on her ears.

"Play more," Jennifer almost begged.

With only a moment's hesitation the fingers started again. It was a different, slow, alluring rhythm this time yet no sheet of paper had been flipped or added. This, surely, merited a raise of her eyes up to his to investigate, but it was then that she realized not only was it mesmerizing, it was memorized. It didn't matter if the notes were displayed on the pages lain out before him or not, his eyelids covered any chance he had of reading the written indicators of sound.

It was the perfect moment, inexplicably and indescribably perfect. The soft music was daring her to lose herself just as the first song had. Her eyelashes were falling fast; a diversion was needed. Only one came to mind and it was immediately accepted as logical: distract the distraction.

Smiling through half-closed eyes Jennifer stood up from her spot on the floor leaning along the side of the bench to his left and placed a light kiss right on the corner of the mouth before her. Her smile widened; she wouldn't have been able to reach the place she wanted to on her knees. Standing up had allowed her to get closer and join him on the bench. The corner she had kissed slowly rose up and his deep, expressive eyes found hers.

The music stopped as he turned; the last three notes building up only to whimper their sorrowing fade. "I'm sorry for stopping you. It's just… it was getting to me," she answered truthfully, regret at bringing the melody to a standstill already lacing her words and obscuring her smile to half its potential.

"You didn't like it." Rodney's smile gave a slight falter.

"Of course I liked it, but who could simply _like_ having their breath and thoughts stolen away?" She smiled brilliantly at him again and answered herself, "No, that's something to love."

His grin returned to match hers perfectly. "I'm actually really glad you like it. Not many people were fond of my playing when I was growing up. I think Jeannie was the only one to ever say she liked it."

"It was absolutely beautiful." Jennifer reached for his left hand still resting on the keys and brought it around her shoulders, allowing it to fall to her waist when she let go. "You'll have to play more often for all of these years you've held out on me."

He gave a short laugh, "With you here listening, it would be my pleasure."

With his hand molded perfectly on the bend of her waist, she steadily drew nearer until his eyes seemed able to look at nothing else but the small crook of a smile at the corner of her mouth and her languorously closing eyes.

Jennifer slowly, blissfully, stopped seeing and allowed her sense of touch to take over once again as his lips finally found hers.

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**Sorry there isn't much description in here for place or how they have a piano etc, just a slightly longer drabble or shorter Oneshot, whatever you'd like to think of it. **

**Hope you enjoyed it. I was thinking of having Rodney teach Jennifer to play the piano in Oneshot form unless it's been done already. If anyone's interested, let me know. **


	2. Hearts Are Made For Sleeves

**Disclaimer: Let me check my recent purchases… Nope, still not mine.**

**A/N: I have turned this story into chapters about hearts and piano playing to be updated whenever I so desire it seems. AU as well, kind of. I also changed Rodney's background to my own interpretation of what he tells us. Hopefully that is acceptable. Much thanks goes to Dani for her help.**

Hearts Are Made For Sleeves

As a boy, guarded hearts were all Rodney McKay ever knew. His father would return from work, pass by his mother without a word, and head straight for the living room where his show was already playing, or should be if the rest of the family didn't want hell to pay.

The one exception of cold tolerance to others Rodney ever encountered was his sister's gentle spirit. She was as sisters tended to be – a nuisance – but through her eyes, Rodney could see the world as a place with at least a few good qualities.

Growing up, their rooms were practically joined by the hips with their close proximity. It made his self-proclaimed job that much easier. When his father first tempted to raise his hand to his mother and then him, Rodney vowed to defend the one person he could. Jeannie saw little of her father's violent temper if her protective brother could help it.

For a few months after that vow-filled day, his music teacher urged him to visit the piano instructor the school hired for after class lessons. She couldn't help herself when she saw the brief demonstration he gave the class after correcting quite a few notes she let slip in the duration of a single song. How he knew to play the piano without having ever touched one was beyond her understanding but he had real talent. He begged off the lessons in the beginning knowing he couldn't leave Jeannie home with his parents alone for his own enjoyment. It wasn't until the teacher promised Jeannie could join him at the lessons that Rodney even considered it. It was time out of the house and away from them after all.

This is what led to the revelation that his parents cared about what he or Jeannie did only when it bothered them. That thought first spat him in the face on a regular afternoon in the frigid autumn weather often known to Fort McMurray. Rodney had no more than plucked a few notes out of the portable electric keyboard he was lent for the duration of the lessons before his father came storming down the hall and told him in very particular words that those sounds were never to be heard again in the house as long as he wanted to remain living there. The piano was returned without the classes ever having begun.

That day marked the last time Rodney touched a piano until he came across one lying forgotten in the corner of Jennifer Keller's childhood home when the two of them traveled there for a visit with her father. A part of him wanted to go out and touch it only the one time to prove he could play it once and for all. He refrained though, permitting it only within his peripheral vision. Until he was asked to play it by her father. If he knew how that is. Always one to accept a good challenge, Rodney sat and looked at a few scattered pages of notes before him. He picked out one and set it in the center, his fingers falling to the keys just below. He had to admit that the reverberations it made sounded something like what they should have just by looking at the notes.

The echo faded off when he let his fingers up off the keys as he reached the end of the page. He remained silent for a moment and then returned the paper to its proper place in the messy pile.

"Did your dad teach you that, boy?" Mr. Keller rumbled from behind him.

"No, sir," Rodney replied in monotone.

"How did you learn to play so well?" Jennifer quietly inquired, her drink tilting precariously from a lack of attention.

"I didn't."

"That's nonsense, boy. Everyone learns at some point if they can play that well," the elder Keller argued, "Unless you're like my little Jenny here. Without touching a finger to the keys, much less read a single note, she informed me I was playing in such a way that the likelihood of arthritis was tripled. She also said my finger span efficiency was lowered," Mr. Keller gruffed. "My finger span was just fine, honey."

"No it wasn't, Dad," Jennifer lightly disagreed, a knowing smile that he would give in already on her lips.

Rodney sat there on the bench yet, looking across the room to Jennifer's cozy spot on the far loveseat. She had a look about her he was all too familiar with.

"So maybe my fingers used to get a little sore. As I recall, yours did after immediately proving my posture wrong by playing from a list of that one artist. What was his name? Arturo Ben-something Michael Angelo?"

"Arturo Benedetti Michelangeli," Jennifer supplied.

"Yes, him. It's a shame you only played it the once. You certainly had his precision and focus down. And on the spot nonetheless. You had to prove your old man wrong with a perfect performance."

She shrugged and rhetorically asked, "Why not try for perfection?"

"Because perfection leaves very little room for soul, Jenny," James Keller answered regardless of her tone.

Eyes widening, Rodney looked up at the older man. Certainly Jennifer's piano playing hadn't instantly withered because of a comment he also had the pleasure of harboring for more than thirty years? His mouth opened to refute the man's words before a different voice spoke.

"Perfection is where some souls flourish," Jennifer said the words to her father but her eyes were directed toward Rodney.

Amazement lined his still slightly open mouth as he finally realized what was hidden behind that small smile of hers: an open heart full of understanding.


	3. My Way

_My Way_ was first performed by Claude Francois and written by Revaux, Francois, and Anka. Also performed by Frank Sinatra. My father is the most recent avid player of it.

Thank you, Dani, for the quick reads.

Sounds of the Heart Chapter 3

My Way

"Could you play it one more time?" Jennifer requested as her dad's continuous playing came to a stop. Rodney had offered the elder Keller the piano bench when he rose up out of the unbefitting rocking chair in the corner and gestured for the new spot. Rodney had daringly chosen his next seat next to Jennifer, had even ventured to put his arm on the back of her side of the loveseat.

"Of course, Jenny." A warm smile to his daughter and he started up again, playing _My Way_ from memory. If he was a crying man, he'd be sniffling to know his little Jenny still loved the song he played every time she was in over her head, missed her mom, or needed a peaceful state of mind. And eventually he had started playing it whenever he had free time. She would always end up studying on the floor next to him when he did. Playing the song for the first time in over five years, he was overwhelmed with thoughts of his little girl curled up listening. Finishing and turning around, he found he wasn't too far off.

"That was as beautiful as always, Dad," Jennifer responded with her eyes closed and head nestled on Rodney's chest. She was lightly holding the hand Rodney had let slide down the backrest and land around her shoulder, a hand placed dangerously close to her upper chest.

He let out an audible, displeased grunt and added, "How about you get your boyfriend to play it? Let's see if he can master it in one go."

Jennifer twisted her head around and locked eyes with Rodney. He didn't look too pleased either. All right, so maybe she hadn't put him in the best position by leaning against him so intimately but she couldn't help it. She gave an encouraging pat to his knee and then used it as leverage to sit up normally.

Picking up her drink again, Jennifer watched as Rodney passed by her father. She would have to give him credit for the amount of confidence he injected into his posture.

"You don't happen to have the sheet music for this?" Rodney inquired hesitantly.

"Play it by ear," Mr. Keller answered as he took the seat Rodney had vacated next to his daughter.

A few moments passed by as Rodney did nothing but ghost his fingers over the keys and then slowly, struck a chord one by one. The music flowed up and down and had the same number of flats and naturals as when her father played it.

A smile curved up Jennifer's face as she listened to the repeat performance. She shouldn't be this surprised that he caught the rhythm of the piece without a single missed note but she couldn't help but be amazed with the man she thought she had endangered with a cuddle.

Inspired by a single moment of musical allure, Jennifer started to softly sing along to herself as she sometimes liked to. "Yes, there were times, I'm sure you knew, when I bit off more than I could chew, but through it all, when there was doubt, I ate it up and spit it out. I faced it all, and I stood tall, and did it my way." It was a miracle she still knew the words to the refrain after all these years but they still came as naturally as the last time she sang along.

Rodney eventually slowed in his playing to end out the song and Jennifer gave a small applaud to his instant success.

"Impressive," James grudgingly coughed up, adding as Rodney turned on the bench, "Even got my Jenny to sing for you."

"I sing for you too, Daddy," Jennifer laughed and leaned in for a hug.

"Just as long as you sing prettier for me, sweetheart." His arm squeezed her close as his eyes trailed over to Rodney's, holding his casual gaze without a hint of a smile.

Rodney smiled in return, trying to hold her father's hard stare. It seemed easier to stall in front of Koyla those many years ago.

"I think I'll go start dinner," the elder Keller gave his daughter the same possessive knee rub she had given Rodney before standing up. "Care to help, Jenny?"

"I'd be happy to. I'll be there in a minute," Jennifer stood up and offered her father a kiss on the cheek before he left for the kitchen. As she sat back down, she patted Rodney's former spot, requesting he move back.

"Hey, Jen?" he called gently as he didn't so much as stand up to join her on the loveseat.

"Hm?" Jennifer frowned as he stayed rooted to his seat across the room from her.

"Make sure you sing prettier for him."


	4. The Dubious Duet

A/N: I almost feel like calling this a narrative by the fingers since there's not much dialogue. But it's not. Sadly. Enjoy anyway.

For you, sis.

The Dubious Duet

Ten fingers slid perfectly from key to key, one hand exacting the other an octave higher. The bigger, calloused hand veered off course and bumped into the more delicate of the two. Thumb met pinky and both stopped their inconsistent scaling of the musical instrument as they overlapped and intertwined. The rougher hand valiantly continued in an attempt to play while holding the slighter pinky hostage.

Just as the owner of the slimmer hands scrunched up her eyebrows in frustration, the partner to the gruff hand on the keyboard slid around her waist and settled on her semi-flat stomach. Not a hard process since both players were lending their right hands to the musical pursuit and straddling the bench, him acting as a backrest for her. She brought her hand up to cover his and in return he finally released her digit from his teasing hold on the white keys. A victorious smirk upon her lips, Jennifer Keller resumed her playing quietly as her dad was just upstairs already sleeping. Rodney took this moment to claim his reward for politely returning her perfectly polished pinky. His lips started at the base of her neck and worked their way outward across her moderately exposed shoulder. The trail they blazed left damp skin clinging to his warm breath as it passed by in lingering huffs.

"A little more playing with the piano, a little less with my daughter," James Keller gruffed, passing by the entryway of the living room on the way to the kitchen.

At this point, Rodney simply placed one last kiss on Jennifer's shoulder and curled his arm farther around her to compensate for the vexation building inside him. Their playing picked up a bit with the distractions withering and her father one room away.

Jennifer picked up her drink sitting in front of her on the bench, took a sip, and murmured quietly, "He likes you."

A similarly quiet snort of disbelief answered her as his playing hand gave up and dropped to his knee.

She placed the glass back in its spot, stopped playing, and leaned her cheek back against his shoulder until her lips were even with his neck. "This is his baby. I've never seen anyone else so much as look at it." Her words were accented by nuzzles from her nose along his jaw that made him doubt they were talking about the piano for a moment.

"If you say so." His breath disbursed along her defenseless neck and she hummed into his in return.

"I do," she whispered back throatily. Rodney registered the combination of words and tucked the sound deep into his mind, hoping to hear it again one day in a different context.

"You know," James interrupted rather abruptly as he stepped into the room with two mugs in his larger hands causing Jennifer to sit up independent of her boyfriend. "I need to have a little chat with you, Rod."

Confusion lined Rodney's brows as this was the first time the elder man had admitted to remembering at least part of his name and now he wanted to talk? About what? He saw that as a valid question and voiced it aloud.

"Just guy stuff," was his simple reply. "Off to bed, Jenny," her father none too subtly directed.

Against Rodney's understated look of fear, she shrugged and picked up her drink as she stood up and answered generically. "All right. I can tell when I'm not wanted."

As soon as the last of the footsteps on the stairs disappeared, James began. "I think I may owe you an apology, Rodney."

The look of confusion returned and the remaining Keller in the room continued. "For acting the same damn way her grandfather did to me. I promised her mother, and myself, I wouldn't be the same and yet here we are." He sighed, placing a cup before Rodney and settling down with his in the rocker in the corner.

Rodney thanked him for the cup of freshly brewed coffee and then started out with more sincerity than he normally showed. "To be honest, sir, I expected worse." His fingers came to toy with the rim of the cup as he looked between it and the older man. "A father with such a gem of a daughter as Jennifer has to be selective in who to trust around her." He leveled with the father and added, "If I would ever be so lucky as to have a girl of my own, I know I wouldn't stand a chance against such promises either."

James took a slow mouthful of his own coffee, swishing it once around his mouth for the full taste of the flavor and then swallowed. It seemed to be his way of agreeing.

Silence overtook them both as they slowly drained their cups of the caffeine-laden drink.

"You're all right."

"What?" Rodney barely caught he had said anything at all as he was sitting on the opposite side of the room.

"I approve," James Keller restated.

An eyebrow creased in misunderstanding but Rodney dropped it soon after. It was late and one missed conversation wasn't going to bother him.

"Well, I have a full day tomorrow. I think I'll turn in." James stood up, gripping his empty mug and heading toward the kitchen but then turned back slightly. "I didn't mean to cut your night short either. You and Jenny can finish up your duet if you'd like, it sounded pretty nice from upstairs. In the beginning anyway," he added gruffly.

"Uh, thank you, sir," Rodney tried in response.

The father turned back to place a finger resolutely in Rodney's direction. "But that doesn't mean you can keep my daughter up late either."

And that conversation Rodney understood completely.


End file.
